


Lands of Hope

by MiraMira



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Coming Out, First Kiss, Football | Soccer, M/M, Post - Deathly Hallows, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-25
Updated: 2014-10-25
Packaged: 2018-02-22 12:13:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2507345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MiraMira/pseuds/MiraMira
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's been over a year since the war ended, but Dean is still in hiding.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lands of Hope

**Author's Note:**

  * For [carolinecrane](https://archiveofourown.org/users/carolinecrane/gifts).



> Happy Halloween, carolinecrane! I hope you enjoy this treat (and are willing to be forgiving of any Britpicking/Premier League errors).
> 
> Contains references to past Dean/Ginny. Title comes from West Ham's fight song - which may be the best fight song _ever_ \- "I'm Forever Blowing Bubbles."

“All right, mate?” 

Dean stops scanning the sea of claret and blue-clad fans lining Upton Park for a moment, and focuses on the more immediate, comforting blue of Seamus's eyes. “All right,” he says firmly, hoping he sounds more convincing to Seamus than he does to himself.

Apparently not, as Seamus's brow furrows. “You sure? I know you must've paid a pretty Knut for these tickets, but we don't have to...”

“No,” Dean says, this time startling them both with the force of his objection. “I mean, yes, we do. I mean...” Even if he spends the entire match searching the crowd for hooded figures, or superimposes images of a ruined Quidditch pitch over the smooth green turf before them, he didn't survive the war so that the Death Eaters could take his life from him. “I promised I was finally going to show you what footy was like when the players move, and I'm keeping that promise.”

“Spoken like a true Gryffindor. Here, maybe this'll cheer you up.” Seamus points out a petite redhead a few rows up and to the left. The instant she catches Dean watching her, she blushes and turns her head. “Been eyeing you since we took our seats. Looks a bit like Ginny, doesn't she?”

“She does,” Dean agrees without enthusiasm, feeling the unpleasant quaver in the pit of his stomach reassert itself for an entirely different reason.

 _“It was never really the fighting, Dean,”_ he recalls Ginny's explanation as he relives the last argument he ever tried to pick with her; remembers his frustration at her air of knowing calm, and a strange jealousy directed not so much at her or Harry as the bond between them. _“Deep down, I think we've both always known we weren't what the other one wanted. Don't we?”_

He'd been too dumbfounded to answer her then. Even now, he hasn't found the courage to correct Seamus's occasional insinuations he still carries a torch for his ex, and not the best friend whose smile served as a warm memory to carry him through countless miserable nights. Or that the screaming nightmares he suffered during their second attempt at seventh year were a legacy of the real deaths he'd seen, instead of being interspersed with all too real visions of returning to Hogwarts just in time to watch Seamus die.

 _Some Gryffindor,_ he thinks bitterly. The war ended over a year ago, but he's still in hiding.

“Seamus,” he hears himself say, “I'm not in love with Ginny.”

“Yeah?” A light flickers in Seamus's eyes just long enough for Dean to be unsure whether he's imagined it or not. “All right. It's just...” He runs an awkward hand through his hair. “You haven't shown any interest in going out since, except with me. Not that I mind,” he adds, with a quickness Dean doesn't dare analyze. “But I worry.”

“No, listen.” Dean arrests Seamus's hand on its way back down, and holds it in place as he seeks to hold Seamus's gaze. “I'm not in love with Ginny. I never was.”

Seamus's grin is brighter than Dean's ever seen it, and he's not imagining the light this time. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Before he can lose his nerve, Dean reaches out with his free hand and pulls Seamus in for a kiss.

A sudden, loud eruption of boos and invective abruptly reminds Dean he's in a stadium crammed with thousands of hooligans who may not be as ecstatic with this turn of events as he is. As he jumps back, though, Seamus's laughter and cries of “Kill the ref!” alert him that the cause of the disruption – along with everyone else's focus – is on the field. 

Everyone's focus except the redhead, that is, who flashes him a shy smile and a thumbs-up. All traces of fear dispelled at last, he grins back at her.

“So,” Seamus drawls, with a self-satisfaction that sends tingles down Dean's spine, “are we still watching the match, or did you have something else in mind?”

“Oh, we're watching,” says Dean, slipping his hand back into Seamus's. “But if you need more excitement...care to make a wager?”

Seamus's eyes twinkle fit to rival Dumbledore's, and Dean knows that no matter the outcome, he's already won.


End file.
